


Nightingales wont come my way

by little_frodo



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Death, Love, M/M, Memories, The End, Unrequited Love, shot in the desert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_frodo/pseuds/little_frodo
Summary: Knowing you'll get shot in the back of your head in the next few seconds will give you a few strange thoughts - and Jesse tries to focus them all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Been busy the last time, so I had only time to write a short prolog on this story. Will continue with others soon - but let's start with this one :D. Came in my mind when I was wraping christmas gifts. God, strange me.
> 
> Have fun!

What is the best feeling in the world?

I remembered a lot of things that were great. Really great. But... have you ever thought of something that was... you know, better than all these things together?

I've had enough trouble to fill up a second life, trust me. Indeed, I must have been in prison for at least six times (except for one time when it actually really wasn't my fault, yo!), and I've been passed out with drugs so badly that I should have been dead at least twice.

But if I point out all the good things, there would be quite a lot more. Trust, friendship. And a big fucking bowl of love. See, I'm really not that kind of romantic person y'all might know... but guess what, it is the end of my life and I barely see now (bit late, uhm) what was the good in it. And the bad.

My feet are frozen. I don't wear any shoes, and the sand of the desert I'm kneeling in is cold. Yeah, desert's cold as fuck at night. And my damn feet are about two or three fingers deep in this cold, dry sand. My hands are bound. The rope hurts my wrists and I fucking can't feel my body anymore. Behind me, they roughly press a gun to the back of my head.

If anyone's been wondering what scene I'm in, well, it's the end. Nothing can stop this now, and I am only seconds away from dying. If you ever wondered what's been on mind of someone who's seconds away from being shot anonymous in the desert in the middle of nowhere, I will tell you.

I close my eyes. 

I can feel the cold metal directly on my skin, scratching my short hair. I take a deep, deep breath. 

Somehow, I am not even scared anymore. Because I know what I had.

And you know, the last seconds in life are not made to be sad. They are there to remember.

“Do it”, someone whispers in the dark of the night.

I hear the sound of a thumb touching the trigger of the gun. There is a soft clicking sound. I feel my heart nearly stopping and although I keep my eyes pressed closed as hard as I could, I can see something.

But it is no light or anyone – anything - rescuing me from this.

I can hear a low, soft voice in my head, filled up with laughter and tears of pure joy.

“What a beautiful little boy”, the voice says.

It is my mom.


End file.
